Cursed
I know I will never find love and happiness.
I know I meant for a life of sad loneliness.
I am broken and torn time and time again.
I am turning black from deep within.
I am hanging on by a single thread.
I know that I am better off dead.
Every one hates me and thinks i'm weird.
I will never belong here.
I can't take the pain away.
I try to with this silver blade.
Yet here you come to make it worse.
Making it known that I am cursed.
Cursed to a life of dread.
Cursed to be found dead.
If you read this it might be the last thing you read.
For I feel this is the end for me.
poem by Jean Pullman
Added by Poetry Lover
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